


Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust

by gliese581



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-15
Updated: 2012-02-14
Packaged: 2017-10-31 05:05:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/340245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gliese581/pseuds/gliese581
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Whatever is born, must someday die. </p><p>Or 5+1 Cookleta deaths.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pixie_queen24](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=pixie_queen24).



> This is dedicated to pixie_queen24. I promised her a fic for Christmas, and this is the result. Hope you like it! And a special shout-out goes to myhiddeneyes for the super fast beta!

Tuesday nights were always date nights.

Back when they had started dating, it was rare when they could see each other more than a day or two a week. Cook was making weekly trips to New York for his graphics design studio and Archie had clients piled up to his eyeballs. So, they'd agreed that every Tuesday, they would do something couple-like. Sometimes the dates were as special as going out for dinner and sometimes they were as mundane as movie night done over Skype.

What had started out as a way of balancing their schedules turned into a unspoken agreement. Even after Cook founded his own studio and Archie had a regular consulting job, come Tuesday, they cleared their nights and had date night.

That's how it went for years. Through jobs, a layoff, a mortgage, and a dog, date night was date night and it was sacred. And that's how it still was, even when the extent of eating out was bland food from the cafeteria and entertainment was whatever was on Netflix. Even though Archie wished it wasn't the same, now.

"Next time, we're getting burgers from that diner across the street." Cook's voice was weak, but the face he made, made up for whatever disgust he was feeling. "Not this crap they call food."

Archie wanted nothing more than to agree with Cook about the quality of food, but he couldn't. They weren't there for the food, they were there for the medical expertise of the hospital. "It's a salad and it's good for you, so eat it."

"No, no, listen." Cook reached out and paused the movie playing on Archie's laptop. "We have to get the greasiest burgers they have. With enough fat that the paper bag turns clear. I'm not budging on this, Archuleta."

"Maybe next week, Cook." Archie wanted to yell at Cook to be serious, but it wasn't worth the effort to fight anymore. Especially not when the doctors had used words like _metastasized_ and _getting things in order_.

Neither of them moved to start up the movie again, and the only sounds were Cook's raspy breaths and Archie's soft shuffling as he scooted closer to Cook. Archie sighed into Cook's thin chest when Cook idly carded his hand through Archie's hair.

"Don't stop living without -" Whatever Cook was going to say was interrupted when Archie shot up from the bed. Archie looked anywhere but at Cook, he knew what he'd find there. A small smile and all-too-caring eyes.

"Shut up, Cook. Just- just stop." The bed started shaking, and it took a moment for Archie to figure out why. His whole body was shaking and there was wetness on his cheeks. "Stop talking like that."

Cook pulled Archie back with strength Archie didn't know Cook still had. "Let me say my peace, Archie. I - no - _you_ need to hear this. Don't stop living because of me." A warm hand covered Archie's own. "I know it's gonna be hard, and you're gonna want to give up sometimes, but pick up your guitar, finish that book you've been wanting to write, or even just take Sammy for a walk. Just, _live_ for me, Archie. You promise?"

Archie couldn't fight the tears anymore and they soaked into the afghan draped over Cook's thin form. Cook squeezed his hand, and Archie squeezed back, a silent promise between them.

 

_David R. COOK (December 20, 1982 - October 11, 2019)_  
 _David leaves behind his husband David J. Cook..._


	2. Chapter 2

James was 17 when his abuelito was buried, on a frigid winter day in December. He still remembers how the icy wind had howled all around them, nipping at his exposed face and whipping his tears away before they could roll down his cheeks. Despite the wind, James remembers the sounds of his mom's sometimes quiet and sometimes completely broken sobs. But what James remembers most, is the feeling of complete emptiness that had rolled over his heart.

He's too young to remember his grandpa, beyond the loud, boisterous laugh he thinks is his grandpa's laugh. But he remembers his abuelito well. James remembers how his voice sounded as he sang, his face smooth with joy. How his abuelito never forgot his birthday and always understood why he wasn't obsessed about sports like his dad and brothers. His abuelito always told him that being different wasn't a bad thing - that the world would be boring if everyone were exactly the same.

That's why James had begged and pleaded with his parents to let him do the eulogy. His abuelito had been there for him, and James wanted to do something, anything, for his abuelito. So James had stood there in front of everyone, and spoke from his heart about David James Archuleta-Cook. James told them of his abuelito's immeasurably big heart, of how he loved everyone he'd met, even people who said untrue and hurtful things about him. By the end of it, tears were rolling down his face, and no face in the small chapel was dry.

In the end, only James and his family stayed as everyone slowly filed away, back into the warmth of the reception area. They watched as the snow slowly began to blanket the newly filled grave. Even as his own family began to move from the grave, James stayed right where he was, shrugging off his dad's comforting arm. James stayed, not because he wanted to, but because he had to. Because his grandparents were now finally together again, laying side-by-side in adjacent plots, and James needed to be witness to that.

James remembers the cold and emptiness, but what he holds the most dear, something he hasn't told anyone, is the feeling of warmth that had washed over him as he stood there. It had felt almost like both his grandparents were embracing him. Whenever James feels like everything is going wrong, he remembers that feeling, and all his troubles melt away.

 

_David J. ARCHULETA-COOK (December 28, 1990 - December 20, 2072)_   
_David was a husband, father, grandfather, and great-grandfather, and most of all a teacher..._


	3. Chapter 3

It was raining, but Archie didn't think anything about it. Seattle was called the rain capitol of the world for good reason.

Archie was washing up the kitchen and idly paying attention to a report of an accident on the freeway, after putting dinner in the oven, when his cell phone went off from the kitchen table. Knowing who it was without even checking, Archie knew who it was, and picked up the call. "Hey Cook."

"You busy, Archie?" It sounded like Cook was standing outside the office. Probably taking a smoke break.

Archie quirked his mouth, but resisted from calling Cook out on the smoking. "No, just put a roast in the oven. Why?"

"You makin' your chutney, too?" Archie kept telling Cook that it was just as good for his diet as a bag of sugar, but Cook would pout at him all night if it was missing.

"Yes, Cook. I made the chutney." Making his way back to the kitchen, tucking the phone between his ear and shoulder, Archie grabbed the wipes from a cabinet to finish wiping the counter. "Is that why you called?"

There was a pause on the other line. "Jeez, can't a guy call his boyfriend without a reason?" Archie heard a shuffle and the sound of a door opening and closing. Cook must have been going back into the building. "Just wanted to hear your voice, Archie."

Archie had to smile at that. "You saw me this morning and the night before. Neal's gonna say that you're codependent. Well, more than he does, anyway."

"Ah, you love me, Archie. Don't even front." There was a shuffling sound as Cook adjusted his phone.

Leaning back, Archie inspected the granite for spots. "Are you coming home?"

Cook slammed another door shut before answering. "Yup, just heading to the elevator. So, I'll see you in an hour. Love you!"

"Love you, too. See you when you get home."

Archie heard the ding of the elevator stopping on Cook's floor. "And I hope you saved some sauce for dessert, if you know what I mean." He didn't need to be there to know that Cook was making lewd gestures.

"Bye, Cook."

Just after Archie ended the call, barely time for him to move his phone away from his ear, Archie's phone rang again. Smiling, Archie thumbed the screen and accepted the call. "What is it this time?"

Some guy who wasn't Cook cleared his throat on the other line. "Um, is this Mr. David Archuleta?"

The screen said it was an unknown number, when Archie brought the phone away from his ear and looked at the screen. "Yes, this is him."

"I'm with the State Patrol, I'm afraid I have some bad news, Mr. Archuleta." A stone dropped in Archie's stomach, which was silly, Cook was just heading to his car. "Mr. David Cook has been in an accident and you need to come down to Harborview immediately."

There was a moment when Archie thought this was a joke. He had just talked to Cook a second ago, and Archie told the supposed police officer exactly that, but there was a sinking feeling of dread when the officer sighed. "Sir, this isn't a joke, please come to the hospital."

Rattled, Archie jotted down the address and hung up his cell. He quickly grabbed his coat and car keys, before running out the door. As he started the engine, Archie took out his phone and opened the recent calls list. To Archie's surprise, Cook's call was missing from the list. It had the police officer's number and the call to his mom from that afternoon, but not the call he'd just had with Cook.

Cook wasn't there. _Cook wasn't there_.

 

_BREAKING NEWS: Major auto accident on I-5 Northbound. 5 confirmed dead, 14 injured. Expect heavy delays._


	4. Chapter 4

Archie knew something was wrong when Cook came into the cafe and pulled him out of his chair by the arm. Trusting that Cook had his reasons for wanting them to move, Archie just grabbed his jacket and let Cook lead them towards the back door of the cafe. No one paid them any attention as they pushed out into the dark alley behind the building.

After making sure the alley was clear, Cook let go of Archie's arm and readied a gun, giving Archie time to throw on his jacket. Archie hadn't seen Cook opting to carry a gun since Turin, and part of Archie knew that this wasn't a good sign. The other part of Archie knew that now wasn't the time to be asking questions. Cook thought so to, because he tucked his SIG away and pulled Archie towards the street, telling Archie to keep his head down.

They came out into the wide cobblestone streets of the shopping district on the opposite side of the cafe. Cook's hand tightened reflexively as they slipped in with the flow of tourists, before it went lax and dropped from Archie's arm. Even Archie knew that they had a better chance if they were as inconspicuous as possible, and Cook's obvious vice-like grip on his upper arm wasn't at all inconspicuous.

The crowd of tourists thinned as they got further away from the glittering shops and warm, inviting restaurants, but they had no choice but to keep moving. Moving to where, Archie hadn't figured out yet. They were close enough to head back to the apartment, grab a passenger ferry out of the city, or head to the car and simply drive out. Cook had apparently decided walking was the safest option, because Archie didn't see the Optima parked anywhere.

By Cook's tightly fists and bone white knuckles, Archie got the feeling that they weren't exactly home free, yet. And right on cue, two black SUVs screeched into the street behind them and moved to block the alleyway they'd come out of. Archie nearly jumped when he heard a Cook mutter a low, "Don't look back, just keep moving."

There were sounds of car doors slamming shut and angry shouts from behind them, and it took all of Archie's willpower to keep from looking back. He needed to just play tourist and trust Cook to get them out of trouble. And Archie would have continued to do just that, if he hadn't heard the unmistakable thrum of rotor blades nearby - a helicopter. 

Stay calm, they don't know you got out - that was probably what Cook would say and that was what Archie kept repeating to himself. Even as Archie heard angry shouts, like wild dogs angry at losing their prey, and a spotlight from the helicopter scanned the area, he needed to stay calm.

In the end, all it took was a car backfiring for everything to come crashed down. Archie jumped at the sudden bang and reflexively whipped his head back towards the men trying to find them. The spotlight chose that exact moment to pass directly over him and, under the artificial light, one of the men eyes caught Archie's gaze. To Archie's horror, recognition flashed on the man's face a split-second before Archie turned away.

Cook swore from a couple steps behind him when the spotlight began tracking Archie's movements and sounds of people pushing through the crowds rose behind them. The helicopter was hovering overhead like a persistent mosquito, so Archie barely heard Cook telling him to get ready to run. Archie nodded back at Cook, just as Cook pulled out his SIG and took a calming breath. 

Archie imagined that he was back home on the worn track behind his high school, just waiting for a race to start. And just as a starting gun went off to signal the start of a race, there was also a shot into the air that started this one. There was barely a millisecond delay from Cook shooting and knocking out the spotlight with his SIG, and Archie breaking out in a sprint.

There was chaos in the streets following Cook's shots - people were screaming and rushing to take cover - but Archie didn't really have time to care. Not when being caught meant that he'd be dumped right back into a cage and left to rot. Cook understood that, understood that Archie would rather die than go back.

Adrenalin pumping through his veins and heart thumping like a jackhammer, Archie just ran, knowing that Cook was right behind him. The crowds opened as people tried to scramble to get away from them, but Archie still had to shove some of them out of the way in his rush - costing them precious time.

Archie heard Cook yell instructions at him from behind, and Archie shot a thumbs up over his shoulder before swerved into a narrow side street. With the way clear of people, Archie tapped into his reserves and picked up speed. He didn't really know where he was going, but he figured Cook would warn him if he was going the wrong way.

With his focus centered on running, it took Archie a second before his brain registered a man jump out of an intersection in front of him. It took another precious second before Archie tried dodging the man, but by then, it was too late - a pair of bullets slammed into the agent and the man went down in a tangle of limbs. Archie turned his head back and saw Cook catching up to him, with by five or six armed men running into the street behind him.

Archie turned his face forward, again, and found the steep banks of a canal in front of him. Before he could turn to see if Cook saw it too, a bullet zipped dangerously close to his head and he heard Cook fire back in response. Archie was starting to understand what Cook was thinking, as they got increasingly closer to the water, and all doubt about his theory disappeared when Cook caught up to him and grabbed Archie's hand. They were going for a little swim.

Archie shared a look with Cook as they passed the point of no return. Cook grinned at him like a madman, and Archie couldn't help but return it. By then, their pursuers were nipping at their heels, but they kept moving towards the bank. As they got to the edge and jumped towards the water, Archie felt something slam into him from behind and searing pain shoot up through his entire back. The last thing Archie saw, before falling unconscious, was the black surface of the water coming up to meet him.

 

_OPERATION: Firestorm_   
_\-- MISSION: Capture or eliminate._   
_\-- TARGET: David Archuleta, David Cook_   
_\-- RESULT: Success_


	5. Chapter 5

Archie was in the middle of his presentation when the door flew open and almost his entire security detail came rushing in. There was barely enough time for the audience to gawk, before the agents roughly pulled Archie away from the podium and corralled him out of the room. Mortified at the conspicuousness of his departure, Archie was about to demand an explanation, but the words died in his mouth when he heard Neal's gruff "Singer is secure. We're headed to the surface evac point, now."

There was a tell-tale high-pitched whine of sirens as they approached the double glass doors leading out of the convention building. Archie saw a convoy of black Suburbans cut right through a line of idling taxis, before they screeched to a stop right in front of him and Archie was quickly ushered into one of the armored vehicles.

The noise inside the armored cabin was deafening when the convoy started moving again, with sirens blaring. The agents were yelling over their radios and checking their weapons, as if they were expecting trouble. Archie jumped when Neal, his chief of security, poked him on his side and pushed a phone into his sweating hands. Archie had to cover an ear to even hope of hearing whoever was on the other side.

"I have to make this quick, Arch." It was Cook. Of course it was Cook. "The agents-" there was a crash and the sounds of Andy, Cook's own chief of security, yelling out orders. Cook came back on before Archie could ask what was going on. "Shit. Arch, listen to me. The agents with you are taking you somewhere safe." Another crash and this time, Archie could hear people telling Cook that he had to go. "I'll try to call you as quick as I can. Love you, Archie."

The last thing Archie heard was a door slamming open and the unmistakable sound of helicopter rotors, before the line went dead. Archie dropped the secure phone in surprise when his iPhone vibrated inside his pants pocket. Splashed across the screen was the headline: "Homeland Security issues critical alert; Reports of Pres. Cook being evacuated from WH, First Husband David Archuleta seen leaving speaking event."

Neal wordlessly picked up the discarded handset from the floor and plucked the iPhone out of Archie's shaking hands. Any protest Archie might have said died in his throat when Neal took off his blazer, revealing the ballistic vest underneath, and accepting an M4 from the tactical team sitting in the back of the vehicle. If there was any doubt in Archie's mind that something was seriously wrong, they were gone, now.

From what Archie could tell, when he looked out the window, they were headed towards the interstate. But to where, Archie didn't know. Turning south probably meant they were going to the airport, where a plane was probably fueled and waiting, but for all Archie knew, they could just as easily take him north.

The Suburban suddenly went silent and Neal reached up into his ear, where his earpiece was. "Say again Echo 1." There was a crackle from Neal's radio and it was as if everyone was holding their breaths. "Turning back is a no go. Echo 1, push the fucking car out of the way - ram it if you have to. Singer Actual out."

For a second, Archie thought he heard wrong. Ram a car away? That couldn't be right. But it apparently was correct, because Archie heard a terrific bang, as if two semi trucks slammed full speed into each other. The motorcade didn't stop to see if anyone was alright, and that didn't sit well with Archie - at all. The other car was mangled beyond recognition and there was debris strewn across the road.

When Archie voiced this, Neal just ignored him and focused on his radio, again. "We can't slow down. Echo 1, peel off and try to keep pace. Echo 4 and Victor 2, move up behind Echo 2."

Everything moved like clockwork. A Suburban with a smashed front end pulled out of the line and fell back, while two undamaged sibling roared out from behind Archie's transport and rejoined the line in front of them.

Apparently satisfied, Neal turned his attention back to Archie. "My job, no, _our_ job, is to keep you safe. So I'm sorry _sir_ , but I can't worry about anything else right now." Neal looked like he wanted to continue, but was interrupted by his radio, again. "This is Singer Actual." This time, Neal swore so violently that everyone in the car jumped and all but ripped off his earpiece. "There's an -"

Before Neal could finish whatever he was going to say, there was a sudden blinding flash and something hit the Suburban, flipping and throwing the armored truck around like it was made of paper. The last thing Archie saw, with his vision clouding as the cabin became a veritable oven, was a monstrous column of fire and thick, black smoke rising up into the air and slowly expanding at its apex.

 

_Please Stand By. We are experiencing technical difficulties._   
_Please Stand By. We are experiencing technical difficulties._

_This is the Emergency Alert System. This is not a test. A National State of Emergency has been declared by the civil authorities. Please shelter in place as more information is made available. Again, a National State of Emergency has been declared. This is not a test._


	6. Chapter 6

Everything seemed pointless to Cook, now. After what happened at the hospital, nothing seemed worth doing - even getting out of bed had been a struggle. Wherever he was, whatever he was doing, something caught his eye or dredged up a memory, and he was reminded of what he had lost. If he hadn't found the energy to leave the house and go for a run with Dubs, Cook knew he would've gone crazy. Well, crazier anyway.

Unhooking the leash from Dubs' leash, Cook let the dog run into the garage and into the house. Even the brand new sedan parked where his Porsche used to sit, made Cook sigh and just crawl back into bed. Cook didn't linger around the garage, nothing would have changed even if he stayed, and trudged into the house. 

The house was quiet now, the only sound in the house was Dubs lapping from his water bowl in the kitchen. Cook headed into the kitchen and mechanically opened the refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of water. The water cooled him down, but Cook didn't feel refreshed, the pang of loss was still there and it was as strong as ever.

The silence was broken when Cook angrily threw the empty plastic bottle in the general direction of the sink. Cook stared, as the bottle sailed through the air and noisily bounced of off the walls, before clattering to the floor by Dubs' food bowl. The dog warily looked up at Cook, then trotting away towards his temporary home in the laundry room.

The apprehension on Dubs' eyes leeched most of the anger from him, but Cook ignoring the discarded bottle and climbed the stairs up to the second floor. He was headed towards the master bedroom when he heard it, soft rusting coming from the room closest to the master. Knowing what it was, but wondering if he should go inside, Cook was rooted in front of the closed door. A soft sniffle from behind the door made his decision for him.

The room was the nursery, well, what was _supposed_ to be the nursery - it was more of a mausoleum, now. The light blue walls, the same walls he'd meticulously sanded, primed, and painted, now looked dull in the dark. Even the crib, something that had taken them weeks to find, only reminded Cook of why it wasn't occupied. His eyes finally landed on the dark form curled up on the soft, carpeting floor. Archie.

Not knowing what to do, but knowing he couldn't just leave Archie alone in the room, Cook sat down next to him. They just stayed there, Cook staring out the window and Archie facing the empty crib, as the sun made its leisurely way across the sky. Cook was almost angry at the sun. What right did it have to keep setting each night and rising each morning, when their lives had ended.

"I just can't stop thinking what-if." Cook almost didn't hear Archie's voice - it was hollow and lacking any emotions. Cook turned away from the darkening sky, meeting Archie's tired, red eyes, and let out a questioning noise. "What if this is a sign or something. Like we're being punished."

The thought made Cook stop and think for a second. He knew religion was an important part of Archie's life, but Cook didn't know if Archie's statement was specifically aimed at God. If Archie was, Cook could see how Archie felt like God was punishing them for whatever transgressions they had committed - nothing ever worked out smoothly or easily for them. But at the same time, Cook could see how events that were out of their control could cascade into this moment. 

"I think, the bigger question is, what do we do now?" Do they give up trying and try to piece together their shattered lives? Do they risk everything, including their sanity, and try the adoption process back from the beginning? There were so many questions, but Cook didn't have any of the answers. 

Cook laid back on the floor and grasped Archie's hand, lacing their fingers together. By the silence, Cook guessed that Archie didn't seem to have any answers, either. But maybe this was what came next, mourning the loss of a child they never got to meet and never got a chance to hold. Archie apparently agreed, if the gentle squeeze was any indication. Cook squeezed back.

 

They had three simple words engraved on the inside of their wedding rings:  
 _BABY JOHN DOE_.


End file.
